


i have seen the specter, he has been here too

by jorgelorenzo



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Catalan GP 2019, Crack, Fluff, M/M, POV Outsider, Well actually POV Jorge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 13:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19335481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jorgelorenzo/pseuds/jorgelorenzo
Summary: “Jorge,” Marc says suddenly and Jorge has a horrible sense of déjà vu. “You speak to Vale sometimes, right?”“I suppose. “Jorge says, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”Marc frowns, voice taking on an unnaturally casual tone as he speaks again. “Has he said anything to you about him, um, dating anyone?”Jorge contemplates hitting himself over the head with the beer bottle.





	i have seen the specter, he has been here too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zjemciciastko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjemciciastko/gifts).



> for my zjemciciastko (all my works are for you really), for being a wonderful friend, for always being supportive and kind and for just being you. you are so strong and i admire you very much. i love you with all my heart and i hope you enjoy this mess.
> 
> this is kind of a rewrite i started ages ago of a tumblr fic thing i did for another fandom, but it's mine so if i want to reuse parts of it, i shall lol. anyways this is all a load of crack and yeah the title comes from Border Song by Sir Elton John.
> 
> also usual disclaimer, none of this is real, please don't send to people involved etc. also not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

Over the years, Jorge knew that he and Valentino had certainly had their disagreements, plenty of them in fact. Some had lasted longer than others and there had been times when Jorge was certain one of them was going to end up murdering the other. However, now he likes to think that they can call themselves friends and chat like normal adults, so when Valentino had asked to talk to him after the Friday practices, Jorge had of course accepted.

What he hadn’t anticipated was an interrogation while Valentino wore a hole in the carpet of his motorhome.

“You and Marc,” Valentino starts, pacing up and down the living room. “You speak to him, yes?”

“I guess.” Jorge shrugs. The pacing was making him feel a bit sick.

“And has he said anything, lately, about,” Valentino gestures fruitlessly in the air. “I mean, is he, you know, seeing someone?”

Jorge blinked. “I thought he was seeing _you_.”

“After Argentina, I thought we would, well,” Jorge has a horrible feeling about whatever is going to come out of the Italian’s mouth next. “I thought we would sort things out as we usually do, but he’s been avoiding me. He didn’t even come and see me after the race.”

Jorge resists the urge to rip his hair out. Did he look like a relationship counsellor?

“Why don’t you go and talk to him about this?” Jorge asks, trying to hide the “duh” in his voice. “Instead of trying to disintegrate my floor.”

“I wasn’t the one who did anything wrong.” Valentino says indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning. “He ruined my race, he’s supposed to make it up to me.”

Jorge doesn’t ask exactly _how_ Marc was supposed to “make it up” to Valentino; he has no desire to know that information.

“Firstly, while Marc did fuck up your race, you acted like a childish bastard about it.” Jorge tells him, holding up a hand when Valentino begins to interrupt. “Secondly, if you haven’t told Marc any of this, how is he supposed to know?”

Valentino looks blankly at him. “What do you mean?”

 _Jesus Christ_.

“Vale, he’s not a mind reader, no matter how good he is at other things.” Jorge says slowly. “He might think you’re still mad at him.”

“I shook his hand.” Valentino says, still sounding confused. “He knows I’m not mad at him, else I would not have done it.”

Jorge groans. “That still doesn’t mean he’s seeing someone else.”

Valentino continues to look unconvinced.

“Is whatever,” Valentino says, and Jorge can’t help but to snort at the obvious lie. “He can do what he likes, I just wanted to know. Now, tell me, how is the bike coming along?

+

If there was one thing Jorge hates, it’s apologising, especially to someone like Marc who would undoubtedly be smug about it for the rest of his life. However, given the situation with the bike, Jorge feels he owes it to the team at least to go and speak to Marc after qualifying.

Marc, surprisingly, seems a lot calmer when he lets Jorge into his motorhome.

“I want to apologize.” Jorge says as they sit, Marc handing him a beer. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

Marc shakes his head. “I know, I was just frustrated. I wanted pole.”

Jorge knows that feeling only too well.

“Jorge,” Marc says suddenly and Jorge has a horrible sense of déjà vu. “You speak to Vale sometimes, right?”

“I suppose. “Jorge says, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

Marc frowns, voice taking on an unnaturally casual tone as he speaks again. “Has he said anything to you about him, um, dating anyone?”

Jorge contemplates hitting himself over the head with the beer bottle.

“No.” Jorge tells him flatly, deciding not to mention the previous night’s conversation with Valentino. “I thought you two would have sorted your shit out by now.”

“He hasn’t apologised.” Marc says immediately, sounding ever more like the petulant child Jorge used to accuse him of being. “Every time we fall out, I have to go to him and apologise, he never says sorry to me. This time he can come and beg on his knees instead.”

“You did fuck up his race.” Jorge points out, ignoring the horrible images that flash through his head at the idea of Valentino on his knees for Marc. “You’re lucky he didn’t kill you this time.”

Marc pouts. “I said sorry straight away, I even fucking said sorry to _Uccio_ , and he still wouldn’t talk to me. He ignored me for months, made me look like an idiot in Misano and acted like we never were together. I want an apology as well.”

Jorge takes a sip from his bottle of beer. He would much prefer it to be something stronger, like vodka, but he’ll take what he can get given the circumstances. Much that Valentino and Marc being loved up and disgusting annoyed the hell out of him, he would definitely take that over having to listen in to this nonsense.

“Look, why don’t you just speak to Vale about all this?” Jorge asks tiredly. “Instead of complaining to me?”

“He’s probably already got some stupid supermodel lined up.” Marc says moodily, more to himself than anything. “Or one of the academy boys, I bet he’d love that.”

Jorge sighs. “There are no supermodels or academy boys, I’m pretty sure he’s waiting for _you_ to go and talk to _him_.”

“Not happening.” Marc crosses his arms over his chest and Jorge is reminded irresistibly of Valentino from the night before. “I want an apology this time. Anyway, I don’t care about what he does. Tell me, how’s the bike coming along?”

+

When Jorge finally manages to escape back to his own motorhome, Dani is waiting there for him, tucked under the bed covers and flicking idly through his phone. His one saving grace in Catalonia is having Dani here with him.

“Hey, you.” Dani beams as Jorge strips down to his boxers and crawls under the covers. “Things go okay with Marc?”

Jorge snuggles into Dani’s side, resting his face in the curve of Dani’s neck.

“He and Vale are driving me mad.” Jorge says sleepily. “They won’t talk to one another even though they _both_ want to get back together. And they won’t listen to me either; it’s like talking to a wall or something.”

Dani strokes his hair and hums thoughtfully. “Maybe we need to have them in one place together and make them talk.”

“They’d probably run away if I tried to get them in the same room.” Jorge mumbles against Dani’s skin. “They’re so stupid.”

“They are.” Dani agrees and Jorge can hear the smile in his voice. “I think we should go to sleep, you’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow. Time to get in the points, I know you can do it.”

The last thing Jorge feels before he falls asleep is Dani pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

+

Come morning, however, Dani’s idea to get Marc and Valentino in the same place has somewhat bitten Jorge.

“Do you think Vale will murder me if I lock him and Marc in my motorhome for the night?” He asks Cal as they watch the Moto3.

“Yes.” Cal says bluntly. “Let me know when you’re doing it and I’ll give you a hand.”

He corners Valentino first, sidling over to him and ignoring the glare from Uccio.

“Do you want to hang out tonight?” He asks quietly, watching as Maverick gave a mistrustful look from the other side of the garage. Jorge wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t like the Yamaha’s were doing any better than he was right now. “Me, you and Cal? The old boys having a beer night or whatever Cal called it. Dani will be there too, he’s missed you, he said.”

Valentino looks rather touched and Jorge feels a tiny bit of guilt bubble up.

“Sure, say 8?” Valentino pats him on the shoulder. Jorge makes a mental note to ask Marc for slightly after 8 given how the Italian never seemed to be on time for anything . “I will try not to be late.”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.”

+

Marc was a more difficult task, because he came in two parts.

“Do you want to hang out tonight?” Jorge asks as they loiter around the garage, slinging an arm around Marc’s shoulders. “Dani’s here, he’d love to see you. We could have some beers after you’ve celebrated.”

Marc eyes him for a moment before nodding, apparently choosing to ignore the celebration comment. “Okay, sounds good. Where to?”

“My motorhome?” Jorge offers. “About 8 ish?”

“Cool,” Marc grins that stupid grin and Jorge smiles back now, pleased with himself. “I’ve missed Dani.”

The other part of Marc was Baby Marquez, who Jorge eventually manages to corner after the fucking disaster of a race. After going round and apologising to every member of staff under the sun, have Maverick start a headhunt for him, as well as having to make Cal check that Valentino was still on for their plan (which the Italian seemed thankfully to be in a forgiving mood), he finally manages to locate Alex talking to Jose or whatever his name is.

“You’re going to lock them in your motorhome overnight?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow. “What happens if they murder one another?”

“They won’t.” Jorge says confidently. “And anyway, that’s on me, not you. I just need you to tell Marini so that Uccio won’t come looking for Vale.”

“Why can’t you tell Uccio yourself?” Jose asks.

Jorge snorts. “Because then the person being murdered would be me.”

“Alright, I’ll go and talk to Luca.” Alex shrugs, turning to Jose. “At least now Marc might stop moping. If you need anything let us know.”

“I will.”

God, he was a _genius_.

+

Surprisingly, Valentino arrives at his motorhome before Marc, and Jorge is pleased when the other man easily accepts his excuse of awaiting a phone call. Jorge had already profusely apologised earlier and Valentino had told him he didn’t hold any grudges, which was a relief. Valentino looks a little less cheerful than he had earlier, but nonetheless, he greets Jorge with a smile that’s genuine.

“Two seconds, Vale,” Jorge gestures to his phone. “I’ll be right there; I just need to make this call. You go in and make yourself at home, Cal’s just coming now.”

Jorge waits until Valentino has gone in before he dials the number.

“Where is he?” He hisses.

“He just left.” Alex says calmly. “I made sure he wasn’t late, like you asked. He should be a couple of minutes.”

“Oh, good.” Jorge sighs in relief. “So, um.”

He suddenly realises that he's had had very few conversations with Alex outside of racing and even fewer on their own. There’s an awkward moment of silence before Jorge tries again.

“So,” He starts. “Um, great win today.”

“Thanks.” Alex says back, equally awkwardly. “I’m sorry about the crash.”

“Don’t be.” Jorge says, choosing not to add the “ _but thanks for reminding me”_. Maybe best in the current circumstances for that comment to stay in his head.

Thankfully for Jorge, at that moment, Marc appears around the corner, beaming at him when he spots him. Apparently the win had put him in a good mood.

“What’s up, babychamp?” Jorge grins back, holding his hand over the receiver of the phone. “Let yourself in, I’ve just got to finish this call. Dani’s just coming, he’s been in a meeting.”

Marc, the wonderful, oblivious idiot that he is, lets himself into Jorge’s motorhome, and that’s when Jorge seizes his opportunity. He slams the door shut behind his fellow rider and locks it.

“Done.” He says to Alex. “Do you think I should say something to them or not?”

Alex hums. “I mean, I guess. Probably best to explain why we’ve locked them in your motorhome for the night, else they might not forgive you.”

“True.” Jorge agrees. He puts the phone on speaker and reads out as he types out a text. “Dear Vale and Marc, I have locked you in my motorhome because I am sick and tired of being your therapist. Stop being idiots and sort your shit out, you weren’t voted power couple of the grid for nothing. I will let you out in the morning. Love, Jorge.”

“When were they voted power couple of the grid?” Alex asks, sounding confused. “I don’t remember this.”

“Me and Cal got drunk at the Gala and went round taking a poll.” Jorge says. “Dani refused to let me and him be on there because he said it was stupid, so Marc and Vale won by a mile. We even made them a little trophy out of napkins.”

“Right,” Alex says slowly. “I, um, have to go now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And with that, Jorge calls himself a taxi to go to Dani’s hotel, glad that his boyfriend was here so that he didn’t have to spend the night either asleep on Cal’s motorhome sofa or, worse, having to share with Alex and the Marquez crew.

Either way, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was going on in his motorhome.

+

The next day, Jorge and a rather sleepy Dani get a taxi back down to the track early enough that everyone else is probably still either asleep or at least not wandering around the paddock. Cal, Alex, Jose and, to Jorge’s surprise, Luca were all waiting outside of his motorhome, the younger two looking a little worse for wear. Jorge knew that feeling well, he was ready to go back to Switzerland and curl up with Dani for few weeks.

“Shall we do it, then?” Jorge asks offering up the keys to the brothers. Jorge _certainly_ didn’t want to find out what had happened in his motorhome, the only thing he wanted to do was find out the cleaning bill so he could safely go in there again without fear of touching anything Marc and Valentino had undoubtedly either fought or fucked on. Or both.

Alex and Luca eye them warily and Cal looks between both of them before sighing and snatching the keys from Jorge’s hand.

“Cowards.” He mutters, opening the door and letting himself inside.

It’s all quiet for a few minutes before Cal emerges, and the Brit looks far, far worse than he had after the copious amounts of alcohol he and Jorge had drank at the gala last year. His face is paler than Jorge has ever seen it and he looks a bit like he’s about to throw up. 

“They, uh, they’re fine now.” Cal said, handing Jorge back his keys. “I’m just going to go and find some bleach to drink.”

Dani and Jorge exchange a look. “Um, why?”

Cal gives them all an icy look. “If you had seen one of your oldest friends with his championship rival’s dick in his mouth, you would want to forget about it too.”

Jose nearly chokes on his own saliva, Luca and Alex both turning as pale as Cal, while Jorge wrinkles his nose. Dani, however, looks unbothered. Apparently having to room next to Marc for many years had made him immune to disgust in regards to any aspect of Marc and Valentino’s sex life.

“Now,” Cal claps his hands together. “I will see you all at testing later on. I’m going to find Lucy and a bottle of strong vodka to forget everything I’ve just seen.”

He walks away, leaving the other riders stood in shocked silence.

“So,” Jorge says, holding his hand up for a high five. “Are we fucking geniuses or what?”

Four middle fingers being raised is the only answer he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this mess, love jazz xx


End file.
